Translations
by waterlilies52
Summary: No matter how many times you rephrase the words, it will always mean the same thing. One-shot.RxR!


Title: Translations

Summary: No matter how many times you rephrase the words, it will always mean the same thing. One-shot.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the bowl of watermelon next to my mouse.

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I was never very good at communicating. It was somewhat of a hereditary thing, I guess, seeing as how my mother rarely spoke more than two clear sentences in a row. We were all pretty quiet, a very closed family I suppose. Yet, we always understood each other perfectly. Our nonverbal language suited me perfectly; it was what I grew up with.

Unfortunately as time passed, I was exposed to the outside world and discovered that not everybody felt the same way I did. From loud whispers to playful screaming, my world took a sickening lurch in another direction as it was confronted by this completely unfamiliar realm. Here, the creatures enjoyed sharing, togetherness.

As a result, I never quite fit in.

The classroom was empty; the last echoes of the bell already dissipated into the heavy dungeon air. But somehow, I found myself still sitting in my chair, staring at a dingy piece of parchment on my desk.

It was rumpled with folds folding on folds, and yellowed after years of use and disuse. The writing was almost illegible, the ink blotted into a senseless mess in half of the words. But I knew what it said.

My hand shook as it crept up to a fold in the corner. Using my other hand to hold the paper in place, my other fingers revealed the words scrawled to the side.

There were only three words and a symbol, but I felt myself entranced at the beautiful ensemble that they formed.

Back in the first year, when ten-year-olds and eleven-year-olds had vocabulary consisting of three syllables or less, our language was simple and easy to comprehend. Seeing as how the main purpose was to get what we wanted, our method of communication was set to complete that purpose. If the message on the paper were to come from a first-year's mouth it would've been something on the lines of:

**_Don't do it_**

_And an exclamation point might've followed it._

Obviously, as we grew older, we began to communicate differently also.

When second year came after a tedious year of new spells and textbooks, we got smarter, more tricky, more arrogant. Yet, deep down the innocence never changed. We still said things bluntly, just with a bit more depth. The words might've been longer, but that didn't mean that we necessarily understood the power that they contained. Phrases were still thrown out into the open carelessly, without thought of the consequences that might follow. A twelve-year old would have said:

**_I love you_**

_And a heart._

Ah, third year. The beginning of the transition. Rivalries began to deepen as petty inter-house competitions started to hold more meaning. What began as something that parents warned children to beware escalated into unjust discrimination of personal opinions against certain groups of classmates. People began to take words more seriously, both their own and others. We were still hesitant to express ourselves; however, our self-control couldn't completely overcome the shyness. Rash remarks still flew through the air every day.

**_I like you_**

_With a small smiley face to accompany it, perhaps._

After fourth year began, a line was drawn in the sand separating who was on whose side. Unfortunately, four groups of people could not fit into the nice two-party system that it was meant for. Besides the Ayes and the Nays, there were also the Neutrals and the Scareds. Where would those people go? Secrecy became essential to survival both from Lord Voldemort and your closest friends. We turned statements to questions, from explanations to accusations.

**_Why do this_**

_Finished off with an angry question mark._

The best thing about fifth year is that it gave us a common adversary to fight against. Not someone who gossiped behind your back nor even gruesome Death Eaters, the almighty Ordinary Wizardly Levels relented to no one. We all studied, sweated, and for some of us, stopped sleeping for no other reason than to get that elusive O. For the time being at least, our priorities were rearranged as other things dropped in importance. Emotions were downplayed, and passion diminished.

**_I don't understand_**

_They might've tacked a period at the end for grammatical purposes._

Everything went back to normal in sixth year. There were no big tests to study for, and minds wandered from essays and papers to other infinite number of things to worry about. This was the age of quidditch matches and makeup, of the latest break-ups and get-togethers. The Teen Age. Long-lost feelings both friendship and beyond were rekindled as we wrestled between childhood and adolescence. From the dates of the First Goblin War to the meaning of life, we demanded answers about the outside world to learn more about ourselves.

**_Tell me why_**

_To emphasize their point, they bored the words into the paper a little too forcefully, a little too boldly, and ended up with an ink blot as a reward._

But then, then we entered seventh year. I often think that was when a part of me died. A little corner of my heart that used to store all the little childhood memories finally became too overwhelmed and hid itself from view, unable to fight anymore. And yet, I'm sure that I wasn't the only one. We all knew that this would soon end, and, the funny thing was you see, that we all found ourselves trying to revert back to how it used to be. It seemed as if the hourglass had been turned over as the old grudges were ignored for those beautiful nine months. Sure, there were the few that couldn't help being nasty once in a while, but when all's said and done, I believe that even the most prejudiced and evil of them hated to see our simple lives change. The sands of time began to slip through our finger, and we hastened to grasp as many grains as we could.

The original line drawn in fourth year faded, and even tests that made such a huge impact in fifth year could not deter us from the nostalgia. A full score on the NEWTs might've guaranteed a job as a Ministry clerk, but it would never give us another midnight run to the kitchens. Just like in first year, we displayed our emotions freely, but different from a ten-year old, we knew exactly the power that the words held.

She knew how the note would affect me.

**_I hate you_**

And the symbol afterwards?

The clearest substance that shows only truth. That, when alone, disappears almost instantly, but when under the sun sparkles and dazzles our eyes more than the most expensive diamond ever could.

The most fluid element on earth that can find its way around any obstacle. And somehow…it found its way from the parchment all the way up to my eyes.

The rumpled, yellowed, illegible piece of parchment crinkled as it hit the bottom of the wastebasket.

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**Random Babbling :D**

Hm. I wonder if anyone understood that :) lol this was written in an insane moment of boredom where I suddenly went, "huh. I haven't posted something in almost a year", and thus, this came out. haha I'm not sure if it'll make sense to anybody but me...but oh well. It's up to you and your imaginations what actually happened in here; I won't spoil it for you.

Remember the three R's: **read** the chapter, **review **the story, and **raise** my poor tired spirits:)


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